


That Grant Red Horse

by seinfeldfan



Category: Political RPF - Russian 20th c.
Genre: Animal Transformation, M/M, Transformation, horse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinfeldfan/pseuds/seinfeldfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to Morð for proofreading</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Grant Red Horse

Gifted to a friend who does not use Archive Of Our Own

Based on a work by Kuzma Petrov Vodkin – Bathing of A Red Horse

It became a trot longer than expected. The father had gave the path in detail that he could paint with accuracy, yet, it felt as if something elusive snaked in the air. Weather: moderate of the most moderate, the cold was not enough to make one's hide shiver and make goosebumps, yet the warm was not enough to carve a smile inside the mind. It was an unfortunate task, but it must be done. This was the dawning of a spring, and father stated that the horses must be bathed. So this is what Renpin, the son, did; He walked with the horse, with a magnificent red skin and seeming volumes of strengths exhibited in his pillars of muscles. Renpin enjoyed this red horse more than the others. He never remembered the father's name of the horse, but in his eye's he allocated the horse as Andrei. His right hand, missing a finger from an industrial accident when he was in blooming youth, cradled the reins of the red horse and let them share pace.  
The place father described was an insignificant lake yet attributed as having a good quality of water, healthy for horses. In this industrial world, some were ambiguous about the quality of the water. Horses in certain manners are delicate animals that require an honest gentle touch. Renpin, if given privilege, would have willed to become a painter, like the ones who created works of great capital in the church he visited sparsely, usually on high holy days. Yet his family was of proletariat, and he gave this innate touch to the caring of the horses. His father owned the horses, Andrei and another, but Renpin felt he was the one who truly expressed empathy for these grand temples of muscle. Their gait, their motions, their energy, it all came together to express a sense of power. Renpin reveled in this event.  
It was an off path, but it did not prove a difficult journey. He passed houses of persons he knew, and persons he did not know. He and the red horse entered a wilderness, but perhaps not far enough to be assaulted by bandits or fiends. Nevertheless, he stepped with caution inside his shoe. He entered a clearing of small trees, and the horse snorted in ambiguity. He placed his right hand on Andrei's shoulder and enjoyed the pulses which moved in and throughout. Renpin cared much for this horse, and he hoped, if animals could care, that Andrei cared for him in return. The trees became more sparse and gave way to a small lake. It was nothing to write poetry about, nothing to paint or give praise to. It was a lake, filled with some dead leaves and a sprinkle of ducks on the side opposite of Renpin and Andrei. He was to bathe the horse.  
He would need to get in the water to clean Andrei. Thus he stripped, carefully, taking off his gloves, his shirt, belt, pants, and stuck them in his rucksack. He had an old and ratty shirt which would be used as a makeshift towel for him and the horse. Andrei stood idle, sniffing the air and looking out for threats. Renpin was now naked and prepared himself to bathe the horse. He took the reins and lead him into the lake.  
The water was cold, unlike the air, but it was not enough to dissuade his actions. His feet floated over nothingness, he was a bit uncomfortable about the water, as if a water spirit could spring out at most moments. These thoughts were suppressed by Andrei, that kindly giant. He swam through the gentle pool, and Renpin splashed water over his back and rubbed his muscles. He got into a rhythm of this movement, and soon the horse was thoroughly wet. Andrei seemed delighted by the cold water on his hide. However the man felt a bit too cold for his comfort, so had a quite obvious idea.  
The horse was quite submerged into water, and despite the hazard of bareback riding, Renpin hopped up upon Andrei's back and got a hold of reins. His lower body meshed with the horse's wet skin. The horse got a bit out of the lake and dried off a bit. However the man felt the horse ought to soak a bit more so he directed the strong beast back into the cold. The water lapped and rippled, waved and swerved, and suddenly the face of horse and man distorted and became unrecognizable. The finite and the infinite became one. Mashing, molding, melting. Renpin's vision became a gray.  
He awoke a pace away from the lake's edge, still naked but less wet than he recalled. He felt his body all about, as if fear of some metamorphosis by means of Circe or other pagans, yet he was human, undoubtedly human. He curled inward one foot and finally surveyed his environments. The shock of proceeding events had thrown his priorities astray on the ground but he recollected his imperative: the horse, Andrei. His heart rate rattled into a Dorian tempo, so he got to his feet and searched the trees for marking or indication. He found none. Renpin called out and startled bird and duck alike, but no Andrei came forward out of the murk. Despair enfolded into his mind's eye.  
This vision of bleak was tapered up as a strange footstep came behind his ears. He craned his head and saw that luscious red skin again, the pounding muscles. However, a new clause was added to God's computations. Andrei became like man. He was large, about six feet tall and quite wide. His skin was red, but a different kind of red. Fate was comical, so his head was still like a horse, and snorted much the same.  
Renpin, flowing with a joy, stammered into Andrei's strong arms, and buried his head into his chest. He could still feel his muscles invigorating and compacting by means of hefty lungs. The red chest was wet, yet it made Renpin warm inside. He felt like he couldn't speak, but moved himself towards the idea.  
“Do you care about me, Andrei?” inquired man.  
The horse-man put his hand on Renpin's neck and slowly rubbed him, saying: “Of course, Renpin, of course.”  
Andrei hid his tears and gave Renpin the ragged shirt intended for a towel. He put it on with some confusion, but realized its function. The man put on his clothes with a smile etched in his heart. The man Andrei and horse-man Renpin walked back in understanding silence.


End file.
